


Shades of Autumn

by frantic65



Series: New York State of Mind [2]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 06:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2538209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frantic65/pseuds/frantic65
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian and Justin...under the Harvest Moon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shades of Autumn

_Come a little bit closer; hear what I have to say  
Just like children sleepin'; we could dream this night away._

_But there's a full moon risin'; let's go dancin' in the light  
We know where the music's playin'; let's go out and feel the night._

_Because I'm still in love with you; I want to see you dance again_  
Because I'm still in love with you; on this harvest moon.  
~Harvest Moon~ Neil Young 

I pull my jacket a little tighter around my body and light another cigarette. My legs feel cramped so I stretch them out, resting them against the wrought iron rail surrounding the small private balcony perched precariously on the outside of our exorbitantly priced Manhattan apartment.

There is a slight chill in the air that speaks of the imminent departure of Indian Summer. I enjoy the crispness that surrounds me after spending an endless summer breathing in the hot and humid fumes that are impossible to escape when you live in a city like New York. It was really no different than living in a city like Pittsburgh, millions of unwashed masses with no fashion sense and a complete lack of good taste, all sweating like pigs as they rushed from home to work and back again.

But, Justin had chosen New York as his home base for now, and there was no other place I would rather be than here, with easy access to his ass, and daily doses of his charming brattiness and insatiable sexual appetite to keep me satisfied. 

Except…recently the up-and-coming artist extraordinaire had been spending more time being wined and dined by the art patrons of London, Paris, and Milan, than here in New York with me. Who could have guessed that blond twink was such a popular international flavor?

Well, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t me. 

I knew from the moment the art critic from France’s most influential art magazine had seemingly randomly stopped by to visit Justin’s first major solo show fourteen months ago, that it wouldn’t be long before Sunshine would be taking Europe by storm.

After all, he was a fucking genius, able to perform like a prize pony where necessary, and his WASPish upraising oozed from every pore when he put his mind to it. Not to mention the lad had finally listened to my fabulous fashion suggestions, and had mastered being able to name the designer suit he was wearing without rolling his eyes, when his adoring public just had to know. 

The world was quickly becoming his fucking oyster, and no one was prouder of him than me.   
Of course, I was also the one that was holding down the tastefully and elegantly decorated fort while Justin was jet setting around the globe. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not bitter or jealous. My boy was reaping the rewards that he fucking deserved, and no way would I interfere with that…no fucking way.

I lit another cigarette and stood up to stretch, admiring the deep orange Harvest moon that was barely visible in the New York night sky. One of the perks of being on the top floor was the view, just the mere fact that we had one that didn’t include our neighbor’s windows or a brick wall, spoke to how successful we had both become during our two years cohabiting in the Big Apple. 

I stared at the moon and missed him, and yes, I know I sound like a pathetic breeder or lonesome lesbian, but although I still talk a good game and maintain the Brian Kinney image of asshole of the century to the general public, privately I am as devoted to him as any domesticated husband in the straight world would be. 

That doesn’t mean he has my fucking balls…well….ball under lock and key, and that I spend my nights pining away for my whatever-the-fuck he is. I still trick occasionally, sometimes snort questionable substances up my nose, and ingest an unhealthy amount of alcohol when the mood hits me, but he knows that doesn’t mean I love him less, or I’m employing familiar pain management techniques to hide my dissatisfaction with my life. We have struck a balance that works for us, and would most likely not work for anyone else on the planet, but that defines what we are to each other. 

That’s not to say we are hearts-and-flowers happy. I can be a moody bastard, and he can still be an annoying twat, but even when we fight, we always manage to maintain our equilibrium.   
Although recently, I’ve been sensing he is getting restless, and that is making me fucking nervous.

When I made the move to New York to be with him, the economy was in a much better place than it is now. I was able to justify opening a small New York branch of Kinnetik by having landed several lucrative local and national accounts before I even opened operations in the City.   
We’ve managed to weather the slowing market fairly well since many of our clients are pretty much impervious to a bad economy, but signing new accounts has grown increasingly difficult as price has started to really play a major factor in winning over these tight-fisted CFO’s.

Kinnetik is quickly becoming known as one of the best ad agencies in the country. I’m not going to fuck that up by offering discounts to win someone’s business. The trade-off is that several higher profile accounts have chosen to go with my cheaper competition. Fuck that, they will be back eventually, when they realize they’ve gotten exactly what they’ve paid for…sub-standard campaigns that bring them sub-standard market shares.

Kinnetik is in no danger of failing, but neither is it in a position to sustain another expansion yet…say into the international market. My goal was to make Kinnetik so strong that I would be able to follow Justin wherever in the world his successes would take him. As it stands right now, after having Theodore put a few feelers out into the European market, specifically France and London, the climate is not looking good for me to make another geographic move. I’m sure Justin has already found this out from Ted, since no one is more of a sucker for blue-eyed blonds than Theodore Schmidt, but I’ve got my own sources for keeping track of Picasso Junior’s professional life as well.

We’ve been tiptoeing around the issue for a few months now. He hasn’t mentioned wanting to relocate to Paris or London, but I do know that his agent recently received several huge commission offers for him, the kind that could keep him on the other side of the pond for a number of years. He would be pissed if he knew his agent had told me, but Justin is a hot commodity, and I am an above-average businessman. There is no way I will let him turn down these opportunities; not to continue to play house with the likes of me.

So, here I stand by the light of the fucking depressing Harvest moon, wondering when I’ll see him again, and how hard I will have to push to get him to make the right choice for him. I lean over the railing and stare blankly at the street twenty stories below.

“It would leave an ugly corpse.” I turn in surprise as I hear his voice, but I recover quickly.

“Yet, it would be a spectacular ending to a truly fucked up life, don’t you think?” I walk over to greet him, and he pushes himself into my arms, and wraps himself around me like a fucking boa constrictor. 

“What I think….” He whispers as he presses hot kisses into the crook of my neck, “…is that you are still the world’s biggest drama queen.” 

I stare into his eyes and pull him into a proper kiss, with teeth and tongue making more than just a guest starring appearance. 

We both break apart when our lungs feel like they will explode, and he touches my cheek and smiles. “I missed you too!”

“What were you doing out here all alone in the moonlight?” He asks teasingly.

“I was thinking of you.” I answer, and no, I don’t gag and my dick doesn’t get soft. We’d spent a lot of fucking time working on my communication skills over the past two years, and the compromise was that anything remotely sentimental or romantic that comes out of my mouth when we’re alone stays between us.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early? I would have met you at the airport.” I sound a tad whiny, and he raises his eyebrows and smirks at me. Little shit!

“It was very last minute, and I wanted to surprise you. I called the car service because I wasn’t sure how late my flight would be landing.” He puts his mouth against mine and licks at the inside of my bottom lip, moaning as I let just the tip of my tongue touch his before pushing him away.

I move behind him and hug him tightly, swaying slowly with him in the moon’s orange glow. Okay, so the fucking lights from the city pretty much block out the moonlight, but trust me when I tell you he found it sufficiently romantic.

He looks back at me over his shoulder and whispers, “Dance with me.”

There is no music, save for the soundtrack of the city, but I oblige him and start to hum in his ear. It is the song we had danced to at his prom so long ago, and I know he doesn’t remember it, but for some reason tonight feels like the perfect time to make it a new memory…for both of us.

I slide away from him, moving to stand before him, offering him my hand, which he takes with a bright smile, laughing happily when I pull him in tight and start waltzing him in circles.   
We glide across the balcony, our eyes locked, the light playing beautifully across his pale skin. We are both breathless by the time I dip him back deeply, and end the dance with a kiss that feels like forever. 

“Remind me to surprise you more often.” He tells me breathlessly, fingers reaching up to caress my face, before sliding around to the nape of my neck to tangle in my hair.

“Okay,” I respond agreeably. “But only good surprises.” 

A shadow crosses his face, and I see the struggle going on inside of him. I don’t want to ruin his homecoming, but denying there was a problem until it was too late never really worked for us in the past. 

I offer him a sad smile and pull him over to the glider bench he somehow talked me into purchasing in a moment of weakness during the summer. It has green and white stripes and opens into a futon. 

We sit in silence, knees pressed together, hands entwined, until he finally lets out a nervous laugh. “Christ, this is ridiculous. Why is this conversation so difficult to start?”   
I shrug helplessly, not willing to say anything that might influence him one way or the other quite yet. 

“I take it you found out about the commissions?” It’s more of a statement than a question. He knows I know. 

I nod and lean in to kiss him softly. “I have my sources, Sunshine. GSK would be fucking stupid not to commission you.”

GlaxoSmithKline, the pharmaceutical behemoth, was in the process of sprucing up their offices worldwide, starting with their UK headquarters. The Board of Directors had the good taste to want some cutting edge murals and intense abstracts liberally sprinkled throughout the world. Justin’s art just happened to fit that profile. This project would keep him busy for years, and in the end allow him to retire at the age of thirty on his own fucking private island if that’s what the lad ultimately wanted to do.

He looks at me thoughtfully before straddling himself across my lap, and tossing an arm around my neck, his forehead resting against mine.

He lets out a deep sigh, and he rubs his hand restlessly across my chest. “Brian, this isn’t going to be like before, like when I first came to New York and you were still in the Pitts.”  
I shrug nonchalantly and turn my head until my nose is buried in his hair. 

“I can call the shots now. I told my agent I would only do this if I could spend one week a month here in New York. Alternate weekends, too.” He tilts his head until my lips brush against his earlobe. 

“I won’t let anything come between us.” He speaks defiantly, as though challenging me to object. As if I could ever change his stubborn mind once he’d fucking made it up. 

“Justin.” I breathe his name, causing him to shudder as my hot breath tickles his ear. “I want you focused on being a big, queer, fucking success, not jet-lagged from flying back and forth for conjugal visits.” 

“Tough shit, asshole.” He responds in that charming manner of his, baring his neck and inviting my teeth to nibble on his delicate throat. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He pulls back for a moment and flashes me a naughty grin. “Besides, I know something you don’t know.” 

“What? That your ass is going to be as red as that Harvest moon by the time I’m done spanking you.” I unlatch the hinge on the glider cushion, pushing him down onto it as it flattens out into a thin mattress. “Or that I’m going to fuck you so hard, this glider will be ready for the junkyard after I’m done with you?” I slide my hand under his tee shirt, caressing the smooth skin of his stomach and chest, pausing to pull smartly on his nipple ring. 

Justin squirms as my fingers scratches at his nipple, and my other hand pushes slowly past his waistband to settle on his erect cock. “You realize the moon is technically orange, not red.”   
I palm his cock and stroke the length, pushing his pants down past his ass to get better access. “You realize that smart-mouthed little shits get teased until their eyes roll back in their head and their balls turn blue?”

He moans and pushes his cock wantonly through the tunnel formed by my hand, letting the slick leaking from his slit smooth the way. He turns his head slowly and licks his lips when his eyes meet mine; knowing full well I can’t resist his, ‘Fuck me, me so horny’ look.

After that, he’s flat on his back, with my dick in his tight, hot ass in the fucking blink of an eye. I have him bent in half with his feet hovering somewhere close to his ears, as I pound into him, the sound of his moans blending nicely with the grunts and growls I’m adding to the mix. 

The springs on that fucking glider are creaking and protesting, but it withstands the punishing rhythm about as well as Justin’s beautiful ass. 

After he shoots his load all over his stomach, I obligingly scoop it up and share his spunk between us, opening my mouth for his hungry kisses, and tangling my fingers slowly through his soft hair. 

We’re rocking on the swing gently, staring up at the luminescent sky. I pull him closer to me, as I feel him shiver in the dropping temperature of the autumn night, covering as much of him as I can with my own body to keep him warm. 

“I don’t miss you as much when the moon is full and bright.” He holds his hand out for a drag on the cigarette I just lit. When I don’t respond he nudges my shoulder gently. “Don’t you want to know why?”

I roll my eyes and sigh dramatically. “Do tell, twat.”

“Asshole.” He replies lovingly, holding the cigarette out of my reach as I go to snatch it back. “It’s because I can close my eyes and pretend you’re somewhere nearby. That no matter where in the world we are if we were to look up at the same time, we’d see the same thing, and you wouldn’t seem so far away.” He huffs out a breath, and hands the cigarette back to me. “I sound like a pathetic faggot, don’t I?”

I wait for him to meet my very serious gaze before answering him. “No, you sound a lot like the man I love.” He graces me with his full wattage smile, and plants a soft kiss on my shoulder.   
“We’re gonna be okay, aren’t we?” He plays with his fingers nervously, and I reach over and cover them with mine. 

“We’ll be fine, Justin.” I pull his fingers to my mouth and kiss them. “We’ll be fucking fabulous. We’re always fucking fabulous.”

We’re quiet for a few minutes, the silence so easy, so different from the first few years we tried to make our non-conventional non-relationship work. Suddenly, Justin sits up and leans heavily on my chest.

“Shit! I almost forgot. You distracted me with your dick.” He glares at me accusingly before looking at me smugly. “I know something you don’t know.” He repeats the words he had said earlier, right before I reacquainted my cock with his ass.

I pull him back down next to my body, where he promptly drapes himself around me. “So what is Sunshine’s big scoop?” 

He grabs hold of my hand where it is resting on my stomach and squeezes it excitedly. “Guess who is unhappy with their current ad agency and is looking to make a change to coincide with the complete revamping of their corporate image?”

I stretch my neck to get a good look at his face. “No shit?” 

He nods happily. “It’s not common knowledge yet, but they would most likely welcome some friendly overtures from an up-and-coming agency like Kinnetik; especially, an agency willing to entertain the possibility of opening a small branch in London to handle an account of their size and importance. But only if they can be guaranteed that their campaign would be handled personally by the CEO, the most brilliant ad man in the world, Brian Kinney.” 

I have to admit this information leaves me temporarily speechless. An account like GSK would push Kinnetik front-and-center as one of the top agencies on the whole fucking planet. It would allow me to relocate to London to be with Justin, while still having ample time to keep an eye on my domestic accounts as well. It would be the perfect solution to a number of problems, all thanks to one tenacious ex-Twink. But, it sounded dangerously close to a hand out…and…

“Stop it, Brian.” Justin’s amused voice broke into my chaotic thoughts. I stop talking and give him a raised eyebrow instead. 

“Stop overthinking it.” He lightly nips at my shoulder and plants a kiss on the spot he had bitten. “I have nothing to do with it except for overhearing some grumbling in headquarters when I was there meeting the Board of Directors.”

“Then how do you know they’d even take my call?” I ask suspiciously, trying to see his eyes.

“Well, I may have mentioned your name in passing to their Director of Marketing, but I swear he already had heard of both you and Kinnetik, as being a cutting edge agency. He probably would have called you anyway.” He so fails at trying to sound humble at this point, so I decide to try to locate every one of his most ticklish spots while he writhes around in false agony.

I finally stop torturing him when I realize he’s starting to shiver in the rapidly lowering temperature. Autumn has indeed found the city, and I am almost nostalgic for a nano-second at the thought of being apart from him for this season. 

I was never one for the warmth and comfort of hearth and home or any of that other sentimental crap, but I had to reluctantly admit that I had enjoyed taking rides with him the past few year into the Catskills, stopping at Farmer’s Markets, buying fucking pumpkins and mums, sipping apple cider. Driving aimlessly on nearly deserted country roads, admiring the kaleidoscope of colors exploding from the changing leaves; patiently pulling off the road to let him sketch whatever caught his eye, as long as he let me catch him and fuck him in more than one picturesque meadow.

He’s putting his clothes back on and smiling knowingly at me. “You know, I don’t have to go back to London until the first week of November…” he lets his words trail off, and I close my eyes briefly, wondering what new lesbianic delights he has in store for me. 

“Oh?” I throw him a bored stare, and he fucking throws me a shit-eating grin. 

“So…” I glare at him impatiently, and he gets to the point. “Why don’t we take a few days and drive through New England, it’s so beautiful this time of year, and I miss sketching nature with all of the multi-media art I’ve been doing recently.”

“How much of New England are we planning on sketching?” I ask him with my tongue lodged firmly in my cheek, waiting for the other Sunshine shoe to smack me in the head as it falls.

“All of it.” He presses up against me, nuzzling in tightly. I enfold him in my arms, and rest my chin on his head. 

“And?” I know he’s not done yet.

“And maybe we can stop in Toronto and pick up Gus….bring him down here for Halloween?” He hugs me, gently rubbing my back, as though I need coaxing to spend time with either of my Sonny-boys.

“Hmmm…it’s not a bad idea.” I hesitate and he looks up at me and fucking bites my chin.

“I don’t have bad ideas.” He announces haughtily, like the obnoxious WASP he’ll always be. “We can fly him back home a few days later, on our way to London.”

“ **Our** way to London, twat?” He really is a relentless pit bull when he gets his mind set on something.

“Exactly.” He pulls back so he can cup my face in his hands. “That should have given you plenty of time to book a preliminary meeting with GSK. We can fly back to London together, and look at someplace semi-permanent to live while you’re there. I’ll bet by New Year’s you’ll be there almost full time.” He’s so pleased with himself, he’s practically vibrating. 

My head is spinning from a mix of premium strength bossy Justin and the scent of needs-to-get-thoroughly-fucked-again Justin, so I don’t say anything, I just kiss him breathless and drag him out of the harvest moonlight and into the more intimate lighting to be found in our bedroom in our apartment in New York City.

Soon to be joined by a bedroom in London, and the not to be forgotten bedroom in a princely mansion in a suburb outside of Pittsburgh. 

I was thoroughly and completely fucked, and I thoroughly and completely loved it.


End file.
